


Halley's Comet

by LadyMuzzMuzz



Series: Navigating the Stars. [10]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family Fluff, Gen, soft Vergil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:26:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22300054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMuzzMuzz/pseuds/LadyMuzzMuzz
Summary: Vergil hates waiting.Ironically, in this case, he may have waited too long.
Relationships: Dante & Vergil (Devil May Cry), Nero & Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Series: Navigating the Stars. [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1491467
Comments: 26
Kudos: 133





	Halley's Comet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lachesissora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lachesissora/gifts), [NeroTheDevilBringer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeroTheDevilBringer/gifts).



> Hey there! Just a quick one shot that has been simmering in my brain since... September.
> 
> Takes place just before the final chapter of Polaris. You'll understand why at the end.

Despite his calm demeanour, Vergil was an impatient man. He hated waiting, and even with Nero, it took all of his self-control to allow his son to learn to dress himself up for going outside. He hated waiting so much, he accidentally discovered Yamato's ability to create portals while waiting for a store to open when he was a starving young teenager. (He never told Dante that, he let his brother assume that the discovery was after much time and practice).

So when he received a phone call from his younger twin to “Stay put, I'm coming home from a job, and I got a biiiiiig surprise for you”, it took Nero to convince him to follow Dante's instructions. But of course, his irresponsible brother was late, as per usual, so Vergil was just barely concealing his annoyance with by reading a leather bound book, while Nero traced letters for homework.

Eventually, the obnoxious sound of a motorcycle reverberated through the building, and a few moments after the engine had cut, Dante burst through the door...with a pizza box. _Well, that would explain his tardiness_.

Dante seemed to sense Vergil's ire and without even looking, tossed him a white package. Deftly, Vergil caught it, one eyebrow arced upwards in puzzlement. In his hand, a thick white envelope lay, slightly wrinkled from travelling with his chaotic brother. Cautiously, he opened it, and even he couldn't keep his eyes from widening at the sight.

There were ten, no twenty hundred dollar bills, all neatly wrapped in a loose elastic band. _What was Dante planning to do with this?_

“Got a job from a wealthy widow who wanted her late husband's lakeside cottage destroyed after she found that he was summoning demons.” Dante chuckled “turns out, he was summoning succubi, so....let's just say she didn't mind when the place burnt to the ground, hence the big paycheque. This is your cut.”

“My cut?” Vergil asked, perplexed. Dante didn't give out something this extravagant without a string attached.

“Yep, all yours to do whatever you want with it, if-” _ah, here it comes_

“You take a weeklong solo vacation”

_Wait...what?_

Dante must have seen Vergil's reaction, and while helping himself to a piece, (and grabbing a plate for Nero) already had a response lined up.

“Look, you've been living here for what.. six years? And you've never taken a day off to just relax-”

“I've taken many days off.”

“Yeah, but you're always taking care of the kid, or cleaning up the house, or something incredibly not fun. You need to get out, stretch your legs, do something that you enjoy. Go to the beach, pick up some chicks-”

“Uncle Dante,” Nero interjected, “chicks are at a farm, not a beach.” Dante smiled and patted his head. “You'll understand when you get older”

“But Nero is still in school for another month” Vergil protested.

“I'll look after him for a week, you can trust me with him, right?”

He shot his brother a look that clearly displayed doubt at Dante's assurances, but Nero, ever the peacemaker, took his uncle's side.

“Uncle Dante's right, you should go and have fun. Me and him can have a tonne of fun together! We'll keep the place clean and everything, right Uncle Dante?”

“Sure thing, kid... you can do dishes.”  
“Cooooommmme ooooon” Nero whined, but Vergil tuned them out. It had been a very, very long time he had afforded himself to relax, both for himself, or for Nero. And despite how he acted to his brother, Dante was the only other person he could truely trust to keep his son safe. So, perhaps he ought to take a break, clear his mind, and...

_Take care of some unfinished business._

******

Vergil hated waiting. He had waited for a ferry, waited through customs, and waited for his coffee at the outdoor cafe. And now, as he impatiently looked at his watch, he was waiting for the bus to take him out of the Capital. But it still wouldn't be here for an hour, and so he forced himself to sit, and take in the sights, so similar, yet so different from seven years ago.

The statue of Sparda still stood at the centre of the piazza fountain, looking down at the the tourists, tossing coins in for good luck, or the locals, who walked around in their hooded forms as they completed their daily responsibilities.

The first time Vergil had seen that statue, he assumed it was a representation of Sparda's power, his will, his strength to dominate. But now, he knew better. It was a representation of Sparda's protection, his love for humanity. Strange that it had taken a white haired swaddled baby to realize that. Nero had opened his eyes to a world he had refused to see for ten years, and had made him a better man. And he had _her_ to thank for everything.

As he sipped the coffee and nibbled at the biscotti (it smelled just as delicious as it did when he first arrived, only now he had the money to spend on it), he mentally prepared himself for the trip ahead. Beside him was a worn travel bag, with nothing in it except an equally worn book about parenting, and a photo album. Once he arrived at his destination, he would find her home and... what, return the items? Surely she wouldn't believe he had come all this way for that. Perhaps she was still upset that he had taken Nero away so suddenly, or perhaps she had moved on. There were other children to take care of, other children that needed her love, she couldn't possibly be expected to hold on to the memory of one child.

And yet, he'd seen her face as he left, watched her break down as she gave Nero to him, as if he was the most precious thing in the world, (and to Vergil, he was). Nero _had_ meant something important to her. She deserved an apology, or at the very least, peace of mind that she had done the right thing, and that he would be forever grateful to her. And if she didn't want to see him? He would accept that, he now understood how callous his actions at the time were.

The bells rang out, signalling midday, a sign that the bus would be pulling up soon, so he left his payment on the table, put on his detested travelling hood, and got up to leave, but not before tucking in the uneaten biscotti into his pocket for later.

*****

  
He arrived at the quaint cottage, and after a few minutes of ~~second guessing~~ preparing what he would say, he approached the front yard. There were a lot more flowers than he remembered, the was air filled with fragrance and the sound of buzzing insects. She hadn't seemed to be a flowery woman, but perhaps she had picked it up as a hobby. People could change over time, he could attest to that.

A pregnant pause later, and he knocked at the door. Silence. Perhaps she was working at the orphanage right now, it made sense. Or she could be out at the market, this was such a stupid idea, why had he-

And then the door opened, but it wasn't her... it was an elderly lady, her skin crackled with wrinkles. Vergil was taken aback, this was not something he expected.

“Can I help you, dear?” she asked sweetly, and for a terrifying moment, words left him. This wasn't in his mental script at all.

“I-I'm looking for the woman who lived here,” he began, picking up more and more confidence as he went. “It has been a while since I saw her, about six years, and I thought she still lived here.”

The woman looked at him apologetically, “I'm so sorry dear, but I bought this home about... my sweet Renaldo passed away in March of...” she looked upwards, using her mental abacus, “a little more than five years ago. I never met the former owner, she had sold it to an estate agent.”

 _Five years..._ Vergil's heart sank at the news. This was going to make things a bit more complicated.

The woman seemed to notice his despondency and smiled “If you'd like to come in for tea, perhaps I could help you find her? She couldn't have moved far, Fortuna is a rather small place, surely she's still nearby”

“I-I appreciate the offer” he stammered “but I will ask other people she knew to find her. I apologize for bothering you” dipping his head in farewell, he turned to leave.

“No trouble at all!” she yelled out sweetly “Saviour guide you to her!”

To which Vergil had to restrain a mirthless laugh as he left the cottage. It made no sense. Granted, he had only known her for twelve incredibly crucial hours, but still, he knew she could not be wealthy enough to just move on a whim. Perhaps she had moved into the Orphanage to be with the children full time? But why sell her home? Either way, the Orphanage would most likely have the answers he needed, he would just have to wait a little while longer. Vergil hated waiting.

*****

Yet another statue of Sparda greeted him at the entrance of the building, which unlike the nearby church and others, seemed to be much newer in construction. The demon attack ~~on his son~~ on it had most likely razed it to the ground, necessitating a complete rebuild. Children of various ages ran around on bare patches of ground, any vegetation being snuffed out by the pounding of hundreds of tiny feet. Despite the relative new building, one got the impression that this was not a well maintained place, kept afloat by the donations of an uncaring public, but little else. The wear and tear on the building was beginning to be noticeable. To think that his son, a direct heir to these people's 'Saviour' might have had to spend his childhood here sickened him.

Making sure his hood was pulled up tightly, he approached one of the Sisters. She wasn't her, he could tell just by her demeanour. This one looked bored out of her mind. But she instantly went alert as he approached.

“I apologize, but none of the children are available for adoption by Mainlanders” she informed him curtly, with no apology in her tone. Vergil gritted his teeth, and maintained his temper. Another Sister had noticed his approach, and came over, ostensible to offer back up against the stranger. Their hostility, so unlike _her_ , emanated from them in waves.

“I'm not here for a child, I'm looking for a woman who works here..” he responded as professionally as he could, as yet another Sister showed up.

The first Sister's nose scrunched up when he told her who he was looking for. “Oh her? Why in the Saviour's name would you be looking for her?” titters came from the other two. “She was nothing but a flighty overly emotional nobody”

His rising anger stopped “Was?”

She apparently couldn't sense the danger her mouth was putting her in, so she continued “Mind cracked after the demon attack here, she flew the coop the moment the new place was built.”

“She was always so weird,” the second Sister concurred, “always had her nose in books, reading those heretical novels from the Mainland.”

“What do you expect from a simple whores-daughter?” the third one chimed in, and now Vergil's hand was beginning to itch, to demand he grab Yamato. “Odds are her father was one of them Mainlanders, that's why she never followed the scripture. She should have been grateful Mother Julianna let her stay and work here.”

“Aye,” the first one agreed “makes sense why her mind went kaput when the little white haired whores-son got skewered, she got way too attached to that unholy bastard”

Vergil's vision tinged with red, and without thinking he whipped Yamato out. The women, suddenly distracted from their cruel gossip, shrieked...

_**SHINK** _

_**SHINK** _

When his anger simmered down, he looked around. No longer was he at the orphanage, instead he was at a large oak, with gnarled roots that twisted and coiled around each other. It all looked so familiar...

And then it hit him, this is where he first met _her_ , and his son. As his mind cleared, he looked down at Yamato, her blade spotless, free of any blood. He had been so close to cutting those vicious close-minded harpies down, and up until a few years ago, he would have, but now... he had spared them, the foolish women they were.

But the damage had already been done. Five years gone, she could be anywhere by now. He would never find her again... Ironically, for a man who hated waiting, he had waited too long.

*****

Nero gripped Vergil's hand as the boy leapt over each crack in the sidewalk, his other hand clutching the canvas bag of sweets. He was telling his father all about all about the things he had done in the past week with his uncle. (Surprisingly, aside from a motorcycle ride that was too fast for Vergil's liking, Dante had actually taken good care of Nero)

“... and then we went to the zoo and we saw some crocodiles! Did you know that crocodiles have been around since the dinosaurs? And they used to be huuuuuuuge!”

Vergil smiled at his son's antics, happy that Nero had enjoyed himself. He would be a liar if he had said he didn't worry about his child that past week. He gave himself credit for only calling to check up on Nero three times that week (although, by the third time, Dante was beginning to sound annoyed, “Everything is fine, Verg, you're jumping at shadows”)

Still, it had felt good when he had returned, and when Nero had practically launched himself at Vergil in a crushing hug, it had taken all of his self control to keep himself together. If he never took another vacation to be separated from his son, he would be alright with it.

“Dad,” Nero's voice interrupted his thoughts “Where did you go for your vacation? What did you do? Did you have fun?”

Vergil stiffened at the inquiries. In truth, after losing her trail, the rest of his week had been dreary slog. He idly thought about investigating further, perhaps he could find out where she went. But then he realized it would come across as a bit more aggressive than he intended.

Besides, why was he so concerned about her? He had barely known her, so why should he be worried about what she up to? Was it because deep down, he knew taking Nero had effected her? Was it guilt?

“Dad?”

Vergil gave his head a little shake, and he looked down at the worried eyes of his son. “Apologies, my Little Star, I was merely.... reminiscing”

Nero was a smart child, and gave his father a doubtful look “Uncle Dante said vacations were supposed to make people happier, but you haven't been happy since you came back.” Nero shuffled from foot to foot “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” he lied, but kept his face neutral enough to fool his son, “I spent my week travelling, doing some research.” It was truthful enough, in a roundabout way.

The boy crinkled his nose “That sounds boring.” and for a moment, he sounded suspiciously like his uncle.

Vergil chuckled, and rustled his son's hair. He was still a child, and had an excuse to find something like that uninteresting (Dante on the other hand...)

Nero's looked up, and his eyes lit up, and he pointed.  
“Dad, look! A bookstore! You like them right? We should go there, that'll make you happier!” Vergil's heart swelled at Nero's thoughtfulness. Sometimes he wondered how someone as cold as himself had managed to raise such a kind boy.

He nodded, and they walked inside, signalling their arrival with the a small chime at the door. Nero ran ahead, no doubt heading straight the children's section to find a book about dinosaurs. Other than them, the store was deserted, so Vergil began perusing the books, noting that there was a sizable Fortuna collection. He sighed, apparently he could never escape being reminded of the place.

“Wait, Nero!”

_That voice, it couldn't be..._

Taking quick steps he rounded the corner to find his son clutching a book, wide eyed, with a tinge of fear on his face. And there...was _her._ No hood obscured her ~~beautiful~~ face, her lips parted in indecision at how to approach his son.

“It's alright Nero, she's not a danger.” he called out, and she spun to face him, her eyes widening, and then, softly, she said his name.

“ _Vergil”_

And as he smiled it him, he realized that yes, perhaps some things were worth waiting for.

**Author's Note:**

> A special thanks to Lachesissora, who's comment waaaaaay back inspired this fic!
> 
> (also, read her stuff, especially if you like Vergil-centric angst)
> 
> Also, thanks to NeroTheDevilBringer for also suggesting the topic at around the same time, apologies for the wait!


End file.
